


Snow

by Seraphym



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullevanis, F/M, Kissing, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphym/pseuds/Seraphym
Summary: Prompt fill for DA Prompt Exchange on Tumblr: Cullen sees the Inquisitor standing outside while it snows and he goes to ask her what’s wrong.





	Snow

Cullen rolled over and pulled the blanket tighter around him without opening his eyes. Feeling himself rising up through the layers of nihility, he chased sleep, tossing almost immediately to his other side and pushing his face down against the pillow. Dimly, he became aware of the unusually crisp coolness of the pillowcase around the same time that he realized there was no part of him that was even remotely comfortable.

He was _cold_.

A Fereldan man who voluntarily slept directly underneath a hole in his ceiling and spent most of his time outdoors, Cullen rarely felt cold. He felt the last vestige of oblivion slip out of his grasp as he opened his eyes to investigate. He was greeted by the familiar sight of the stars silvering the inky black of the pre-dawn sky. Except the stars were a lot bigger than he remembered, and whiter… and… Maker, were they _moving_? Cullen blinked groggily, trying to focus on the stars but they kept coming close instead of staying where they were and… A tiny spark of cold on his cheek, then another on his bottom lip – the strange crisp/damp coolness of the pillow – he sighed.

It was snowing.

He sat up abruptly and tossed the blanket aside. Cullen was not a man to linger in bed and try to steal several precious minutes of sleep once he had decided what he was to do and what needed to be done first. He dressed swiftly, grateful anew for the heavy, furred mantle over his shoulders. His mind had already begun the day, lining up the meetings for the morning; his hands roved over his desk, gathering the relevant reports and documents for each one. He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice the first shiver that rippled through him. Or the second. He only vaguely became aware of his body’s struggle to stay warm when the the shivers became gently rolling tremors that didn’t stop.

Oh. He was **_cold_**.

Reluctantly, Cullen forced his mind to address this nagging problem. Ideas flitted here and there, but they all involved leaving his office to find a hearth fire and he was loath to interrupt his flow so soon after getting started. His body ended the internal debate when his teeth began knocking against each other. Exasperated, he set down the papers he was holding and reached for his gloves.

Perhaps a hot cup of tea next to the kitchen fires, he thought. It was still very early; early enough that it was technically still night. Even the cook and the rest of the kitchen staff wouldn’t be there yet. Tea was simple enough, though. Maybe a thick, fluffy biscuit from the warming basket on the stove… The thought of being warmed from the inside while sitting next to a large fire was enough to propel him towards the door without further ado. He strode outside onto the battlements, so focused on his objective that he almost didn’t notice the lone figure standing in the snow in the courtyard with her arms lifted up at her sides. The starlight and snowshine reflected brilliantly off her silvering hair.

_Evanis?_

Her back was turned to him, but the shape of her and that uncommon stillness around her…

He would know her anywhere. His Evanis.

 _His_.

What was she doing there? Was she hurt? Cullen felt a small knot of panic form just under his breastbone. Cold entirely forgotten, his sharp, practiced eye swept the scene. No blood. Nothing nearby that could have injured her. No signs of a struggle… in fact, she had been standing there long enough that freshly fallen snow had filled in any foot prints she had made getting there. He reached the bottom of the steps and was now close enough to see the even rise and fall of her shoulders. Her arms still slightly raised, palms up, as if in silent supplication to the Maker or his love, Andraste. His panic subsided, settled into concern. He walked toward her, his boots making the snow rustle and then creak with each step. The soft sounds were strangely loud in the utter silence of the night. Acting on some instinct he couldn’t name or describe, Cullen resisted the urge to break into a run or call out to her.

Instead, he came up beside her and waited a beat. He saw she was smiling, eyes closed, head tipped slightly up to the black sky wild with snowflakes.

He laid his hand lightly on her lower back and spoke softly, “Evanis?”

She didn’t open her eyes. Her smile widened.

“Listen. Listen, Cullen.”

He listened. Evanis had lost so much of her hearing. He knew that most of the tiny, fragile sounds of a winter midnight were lost to her. It must be something else, he thought. Something beyond mere sound. They stood there in the frigid quietude another moment before she answered his unvoiced question.

“The quiet. Listen to that _quiet_.”

Cullen hesitated. “I assumed… I thought that it was _always_ quiet for you.” His low voice was rueful.

Evanis shook her head. “I meant the abeyance.” Cullen felt a tiny smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. He doubted Evanis knew how often her speech gave away her penchant for reading codex after dusty codex. “Besides,” she continued. Her eyes were still closed, but he caught the brief shadow that passed over her features. “Hearing doesn’t work that way. Quiet isn’t the absence of sound, it’s the sudden presence of all the little sounds. Trickles, rustles, sighs. The snap of sparks in the fire.” She paused. “The sounds of a kiss.”

Cullen’s heart ached, literally _ached_. He felt it bloom beneath his ribs, spreading upwards, making his breathing tight. She opened her eyes and turned so they were facing. He searched them, looking for what, he didn’t know.

“Without the sound of quiet, it’s always loud. If I hear anything, it’s because it’s loud enough for me to hear. So every sound I hear is big, heavy, intense. _Loud_. The emptiness in between the thundering doesn’t make up for those tiny sounds of peace.” She inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. “But tonight… there is something about this spot right here… and the snow… I can _hear_ the quiet.”

Cullen’s breath caught in his throat as Evanis’ gaze swept up to meet his. Sea green or sky blue, he could never decide what colour they were, but those eyes of hers held something for him. Something that called to him in the depths of the night when he fought the lyrium dreams, in the bright afternoons when he worked with his recruits, and right now, in this very moment, with their breaths merging between them.

“Evanis.” His voice was little more than a growl. He reached for her hips and pulled her against him. His heart was full of things for her he couldn’t find words for: bright fluttering things, darkly monstrous things, cracked-open-heart things. So he took her mouth with his, pressing his entry, raw and wrecked. She opened to him and he moaned brokenly as he pushed his tongue against hers, kissing the things he felt into her mouth. His fingers were suddenly in her hair, his palm cupped around the back of her head and he kissed her deeper, the keen edge of his hunger wrenching a gasp from her and he knew he should pull back, should slow down, but then her hands were running up his arms, her body bowed against him, and he was undone… the soft white world fell away from them and they knew nothing but the heat that licked and leapt like flame deep inside them.


End file.
